


varadero daydream

by cabriesun



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Beaches, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Fluff, M/M, Summer Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-20 08:44:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17019474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cabriesun/pseuds/cabriesun
Summary: Keith blinks, rapidly twisting around to where he swore he saw movement. And he was right, alert eyes watching a young man emerge from behind the base of a large palm tree. There’s no way he could have seen Keith from this angle, primarily facing forward as he tiptoes towards the shoreline. There’s a sudden spark in his step as his tip-toe shifts to a full-on sprint, chocolate curls swept up by the light wind.Keith swears if his heart could speak, it would be screaming as his eyes followed the sight.Or, Keith goes on vacation against his will but discovers what it means to feel alive.





	varadero daydream

**Author's Note:**

> hello AO3! it's been... a _long ass time_. school has sadly caught up with me but as soon as finals conclude, i promise to have some stuff out!
> 
> now...this was for a zine collection (teou) that fell through. i've been waiting _months_ to post this and have finally been given the green light to let my fics into the wild. despite the failures of the project, i want to extend my gratitude to the mods that tried to keep the zines afloat. it's people that you that keep the world turning.
> 
> but, without further ado...my TEOU klance fic...

“Keith, are you just gonna ignore me the entire time we’re flying?”

It’s rude, but he’s determined to keep his headphones in as long as he can in order to ignore his older brother. After what he did, it’s what he deserves, after all.

“Keith? Keith? Keith!”

The last one comes out as a long, exaggerated whine that he literally can’t ignore, considering Shiro’s also wrapping his limbs around Keith’s body obnoxiously. With a disgruntled whine, he tugs his earbuds out of his ears.

“Yes, Shiro?”

“Are you going to ignore me for the--”

“I heard you the first time,” Keith stops him, “and no, but honestly? You’re guilty by association. You didn’t defend me at all. You just let Mom go on about me being a lowlife before making me come with you on your… what is this?”

“Keith, it’s a study abroad trip. And yeah, I didn’t say anything because she’s kind of right. No, you’re not a lowlife, but you spend every summer with Pidge and Hunk just playing video games! How do you not get bored? You’re twenty-two, out of college with a bright future ahead of you, and you don’t have a travel bug yet?”

“Who says I need a travel bug? I just like to relax during the summer, Shiro, you know that.”

“Well, now you can relax on a beach! It’s just like relaxing at home, just not in our basement at three in the morning, losing all of your brain cells.”

“You’re making it sound a lot worse than it actually is.”

“All I’m saying is spread your wings a little. Varadero is beautiful, and you have no idea what you’ll find out there. Get your head out of your phone, smell the saltwater air, and eat something you haven’t eaten before.”

He’s still grumpy about being basically kicked out of the house for the summer, but he can’t help but agree with his brother. It is a once in a lifetime opportunity for both of them. Keith just wishes that the decision was made on his own terms, rather than being thrown into it at the last minute. He talks to Shiro for the remainder of the flight, still harboring slight irritation towards him. He’ll be over it by the time they land anyway.

The Airbnb house that Shiro had so confidently chosen and raved about lived up to the hype. Minus the lack of wi-fi (he hates how Shiro believes they don’t need it to survive), Keith appreciated the large bay windows that rested near the back of the rental house.

“How much is this place?” Keith asks genuinely, dropping his bag beside him as his eyes scan the chandeliers that hang from the high ceilings.

“Seventy-three bucks a night,” Shiro smirks proudly, “for four months, I thought that was insane, but this is definitely worth the money.”

“Yeah…”

“Wanna… explore? Maybe?”

“The house? Or—”

“No,” Shiro rolls his eyes, pointing in the direction of the beach, “outside.”

“Shiro,” Keith throws his head back, dropping to his knees dramatically, “I can’t even unpack? Or unwind?”

“Well guess what? You’re in luck!”

With two strong arms, he tugs both of their bags away before calling over his shoulder.

“I’m unpacking for you!”

“Shiro—”

“Go outside, Keith!”

“But it’s almost midnight!”

“Oh my God.” His hand smacks his forehead in annoyance before turning back to his younger sibling, “it’s early! Midnight is early! You of all people should know that!”

Without a second glance, Shiro’s gone and disappearing behind the corner. Keith hears the door slamming against the wall and purses his lips. He supposes he has no choice now.

It’s cooler outside than they had primarily anticipated, so Keith grabs his torn denim jacket off of the couch, draping it over his shoulders before trekking out of the rental house. 

He has to give Shiro credit; it seems that the town is more awake than it is in the daytime. Music travels from the various clubs up to where their house rested, sending a curious jolt of electricity up Keith’s spine. He wants to see, as much as he wants to turn back and play games on his cell. Both options seem pleasant, but he decides to leave the rental house and stretch his limbs a bit before Shiro has his head. He travels far enough to reach the beach, the excitement of the city startlingly more intimidating up close. Here is good; he’d travel to the city the next day if he dared. The tide was high at this time of night, waves crashing along the shore angrily. The young man inches further, salsa music resounding from the crowded streets of the city. Combined, the melody is so entrancing that Keith almost misses the sudden change in the air; the shifting of a body.

Keith blinks, rapidly twisting around to where he swore he saw movement. And he was right, alert eyes watching a young man emerge from behind the base of a large palm tree. There’s no way he could have seen Keith from this angle, primarily facing forward as he tiptoes towards the shoreline. There’s a sudden spark in his step as his tip-toe shifts to a full-on sprint, chocolate curls swept up by the light wind.

Keith swears if his heart could speak, it would be screaming as his eyes followed the sight. The boy strips his shirt off of his slender body carefully, dropping it to the side without the slightest concern shortly after. Keith can’t tear himself away from the sight, watching as the young man dives into the sea, allowing it to swallow him whole. As if his presence alone eases the tide, Keith watches in amazement as the waves cease the moment he enters the sea. With only the consideration of his hammering heart, he dares to move closer. He hopes he isn’t found out, fearful of scaring him away.

He’s perched behind a bush, concealing himself completely as he peers closely. The moonlight kisses his golden skin, giving off an ambient glow that makes Keith’s heart skip. Capturing the moment comes to him as an epiphany, hands fumbling clumsily as he hopes to catch a picture before the boy disappears. He flips to his camera app, snapping a picture with haste before shoving his cell back into his pocket.

Sexy. 

The word rattles him, dangerous temptations painting the valleys of his mind. The way the light compliments the evident dips of his hips certainly fits that description. He didn’t even know his vision was this good, being able to pick up on the details he’s sure most people would miss. Keith’s never experienced any kind of moment quite like the one he’s currently living in. 

It’s frightening, enticing, inviting and yanking him further into the deep end. But the moment the wonder turns, his back slams against the palm tree adjacent to him, eyes wide and heart thumping along with the music rising from the city.

His eyes squeeze shut, praying he hasn’t been caught. He hadn’t thought that far ahead before deciding to stick around, nor did he want to try and wing an introduction. After a few minutes pass, he’s convinced that he successfully avoided confrontation. With that, he shies away from the beach, running back to the rental house as fast as his feet can take him.

The sand between his toes crunches together, much to his annoyance as the house quickly comes into view. He enters silently, obnoxiously loud snores from the main room indicating Shiro is dead asleep. Keith drops his shoes on the mat before dashing into his room and diving under the covers. He tries to distract himself with every mindless game his phone has to offer, but his heart’s already set on a distraction. The twenty-two-year-old can’t bring himself to tear his eyes away from the clumsy shot he took of the man in the water. He needed more than the picture that’s causing his eyes to hurt.

The night afterward he returns, sitting by the palm trees and watching him embrace the sea. Keith can tell, just by the way he moves, how much the water entices the young man. He’s not stalking him. He’s just observing from a distance, where he can’t say something idiotic. Naturally, he makes it a habit, slipping out of the house unnoticed. It was always around the same time, and at the same place. The repetition only makes it more exciting for Keith, having something to look forward to after spending the day out with Shiro, or watching him conduct his research. Not having to disclose his location to Shiro, like he would if his mother had come with them, was something that added a little extra edge for him. The midnight swimmer is his, essentially; something—or, someone, he doesn’t have to share with others. 

“What’s down there that has you on such a tight schedule?” Shiro asks on the fifth night, looking up from his work for the first time in six hours to inquire about his brother’s whereabouts.

“You were the one who told me to go outside, Shiro!”

Keith manages to escape without having to entertain him any longer, stumbling on stray rocks buried deep in the sand in his haste. He feels a bit bad, leaving Shiro in the dust like he had without an explanation. But there would be time for that; he doesn’t want to miss the Cuban boy tonight.

And he doesn’t. As Keith settles in his spot underneath the palm tree, urgent footsteps approach him. When he turns to address them, he doesn’t expect what he sees.

“Who the fuck are you?”

The midnight swimmer. Up close, Keith can now identify the electrifying blue eyes that compliment his bronzed skin, along with a bold, sassy atmosphere that Keith honestly wouldn’t expect from someone he assumed was quiet. He bends down, glaring at the young man on the ground and practically pushing his nose up in his space. He doesn’t have a clue how to respond, embarrassment pushing all his coherent words down his throat.

“I—”

“Yeah, I caught on to your pattern, sicko. Went swimming two hours early so I could catch you. Now, who the fuck are you?”

Keith stares at him blankly, unsure of what to say until it hits him. Just tell him you’re not a stalker.

“I-I just liked watching you swim. I’m sorry! I just had no clue how to say anything…”

The boy purses his lips, probably considering whether he should call the police or not. The thought of authorities frightens Keith into standing up, holding his hand out promptly.

“I-I’m Keith. Keith Kogane.”

The boy’s chest rises and falls more than once before he holds his hand out.

“Lance McCain.”

“That—that’s a suiting name. I like it.”

Keith doesn’t miss the flush of Lance’s cheeks, how furiously red it is and how quickly it spreads. The young man turns away, looking off towards where the excitement of the city lies.

“Keith, do you like ice cream?”

He nods nervously before Lance grabs his wrist dragging him up to the boardwalk.

“Let’s go then!”

“To where, exactly?!”

“Azúcar Dulce. Where else?”

* * *

 

At Azúcar Dulce, which ends up being an ice cream parlor, Lance orders Keith a simple cup of vanilla bean before listing off his own outrageous order. The two of them sit at the makeshift bar facing the sea, Keith’s head still spinning as he settles himself. After a few minutes, Lance speaks up once more.

“You remind me of someone…”

Keith still can’t bring himself to breathe properly, let alone respond to the statement. He’d gone from admiring the lean man from a distance to being able to graze his fingers against the light freckles he never knew were there.

“Not like someone I know, but someone from a movie…”

The boy hadn’t stopped talking, and Keith tunes back into the conversation just in

time to see him snap his fingers pleasantly, startling the paler.

“John Bender!”

“John Bender? As in,  _ The Breakfast Club _ , John Bender?”

“It’s the denim,” Lance’s fingertips trace his shoulder gently, his body burning beneath his touch, “wear and tear suits you like it suits him.”

He’s happy that the dim lights don’t reveal much of his face as he turns to his ice cream sheepishly. It isn’t the comparison that embarrasses him, rather how closely Lance needed to observe him in order to notice. He’s burning under the spotlight he decided to shine down on him. And Keith is no John Bender.

“Thanks, I guess,” Keith fiddles with the spoon, scooping up some of the sweet vanilla beans and savoring the contrasting coolness against his tongue.

“No problem,” he smiles, leaning forward on his forearms, eyes closed. His brown locks whip against his forehead as the wind tousles them about. Keith follows suit.

“So, you live here?”

“In Varadero? I used to. I live in the city now, closer to work.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a teacher,” he smiles softly, “well, a teacher in training, to put it in technical terms.”

“Kids?”

“Yeah, I love ‘em.”

The next few minutes carry on, silence building an uncomfortable wall between them. He should say something; like right now. The quietness between the two of them would certainly lead to discomfort, which would snowball into departure. And Keith didn’t want Lance to leave under any circumstances.

“I’m sorry if you thought I was stalking you. I swear I wasn’t. I’ve never seen someone so in tune with the sea. And… you just seemed to have a way with it, you know? I guess I was overly intrigued.”

Keith can’t see it from here, but there’s a prominent blush spreading across Lance’s face that’s been growing since he said ‘sorry’.

“How long are you here?” He asks eagerly, which Keith grants with an instant response.

“All summer.”

“Really?”

“I’m here with my older brother, he’s here on a study abroad trip.” He explains in short. Lance’s smile grows to a beam, mischievous as it stretches across the entirety of his face, still glistening from his swim. Keith is distracted by the sopping locks of hair that hang delicately over his eyes, flipping with every slight movement Lance makes. He smiles, loving the way it frames his face perfectly. He’s cute, no doubt. It’s only when he speaks again that Keith comes back down from his trance.

“Wanna go salsa dancing?”

Salsa dancing?

“I-I have two left feet,” the dryer of the two protests, “you don’t want to dance with me. And I’ve never done the salsa before—!”

Lance’s hand slips through his in seconds, his tight grip leaving Keith dazed. He had no clue that a human heart could beat as heavily as his.

“I’ve never had a student I can’t teach Keith, and you’re not going to be the first!”

The night is eventful; enjoyable and charming to the point that when Keith woke up the next morning, he could remember every moment spent with Lance. Over the next two weeks, Lance takes Keith out into the city every night, ending their endeavors with ice cream at Azúcar Dulce. He made it a mission to try all the flavors, and Lance was happy to join in with him.

His feelings for Lance became more and more impossible to avoid, the time spent with him always managing to be enjoyable, intimate, and real. Realer than anything he’s ever done back at home. He isn’t sure if it’s the lull Varadero itself, or just Lance, but there’s something that’s tugging him closer to the Cuban boy and he’s just about ready to give in.

When Lance suggests they go for a swim one night, Keith feels that it’s the pinnacle of the endless build-up of his little crush. He considers the pros and cons of confessing his feelings as he adjusts the collar on his white button up, until Shiro cuts in, seemingly reading his mind.

“So when are you gonna tell me about him?”

Keith stutters in his words and his movements, his escape plan wrecked by the much more effective sequel of Shiro’s interrogation. 

“You’re, uh,” the younger tries to search for an excuse, “huh? What? What are you talking about?”

“The boy you’ve been running around with.”

“I—”

“Keith, you’re shit at keeping secrets.” Shiro cuts his protest off before he can get a word out. With that out in the air, Keith accepts defeat.

“His name is Lance,” he starts, “he’s… something else. Magical, spellbinding, just perfect. And it’s only been a week or two, but I want to tell him I--”

“Then tell him.”

“Shiro, it’s not that easy--”

“Keith,” he scolds, “it’s summer. Everything’s easy. That’s what’s so beautiful about it.”

Shiro’s last words to him ring in his head like a mantra until he’s standing at the shore, unbuttoning his top as the cold sea water tickles his exposed toes. Lance is already out in the deep end, the temperature of the water insignificant. Eventually, Keith joins him, adjusting to the chill and messing around with the younger man. The two of them mess around, splashing about and chasing each other underwater. When the excitement slows to a stop, Keith’s chuckling simmers down as he notices his partner isn’t close to him anymore. He spots him floating nearby and calls for him, raking a hand through his dripping hair.

“What?”

He’s genuine in his questioning, noticing how Lance so abruptly stopped swimming. The brunette treads over to him, gaze low and hands even lower. A shiver crawls up Keith’s spine when he feels Lance’s arms snaking around his waist.

“Lance…”

His name comes out as a whispered plea, but Keith doesn’t know what for. Whether it’s for him to continue, or to stop entirely. But Lance makes his mind up for him, tugging his body impossibly closer and bringing their lips together in a searing kiss that sets the two of them on fire, though completely submerged in water. Keith’s eyes flutter shut immediately, hands rising from the sea to cradle the Cuban’s face, gently caressing his wet skin.

The arms holding him still squeeze, provoking the two of them to part. An electric spark lingers between them, the sensation still burning on Keith’s virgin lips. Yes, he’s had kisses before, but not a kiss like this one. Not the kind of kiss that left your heart thundering at the same swift pace long after. Lance seems to be going through the same shock, fingertips tracing his lips absently as his eyes stay fixed on him, studying Keith’s every move.

“Don’t…” Lance breaks the silence, and Keith looks up, anxious to hear what he has to say, “I’m sorry if that was ill-timed. I just…I couldn’t help myself. I’ve wanted to kiss you all week.”

“Hey, hey,” Keith’s nerves dissipate, palms against Lance’s reddened cheeks, “it’s okay. You just acted, instead of talking. It’s better, honestly. Gets the point across faster.”

Lance sputters, bursting into jovial laughter that causes Keith’s heart to bloom, a tingly warmth crawling up his spine and spreading throughout the rest of his body. To say he feels like he’s on the top of the world, floating in the middle of the Caribbean sea with Lance McClain, probably the most gorgeous, beguiling man he’s ever met, is an understatement on many levels.

“I mean, you’re not wrong.” His fingers tap the surface of the water, watching the small rings form.

“I was gonna tell you tonight,” Keith confesses, thumbs now kneading soothing patterns into his cheek, “but it got complicated, I got complicated. Starting thinking too much, I guess. I-I mean, there’s just a lot to consider, and I’ve never felt this way about someone before.”

“You said you’re gonna be here all summer?” Lance asks. Keith follows his hands excitedly as his fingers return to his skin, his darker fingers stroking his bicep gently.

“Yeah,” he breathes, “all summer.”

The water moves beneath them, and the latter exhales when the native’s body presses hotly against his. His lips rush up to his, only halting to speak against his mouth, already tingling for another kiss.

“Then we’ve got all summer to uncomplicate it.”

They share another kiss under the moonlight. It serves as more of a spotlight than anything, and Keith’s burning underneath it. Lance’s lips slide against his, spending sparks through his veins with every push and nudge of his mouth, forcing them to further deepen the kiss. Hands blindly fall to Lance’s curvy waist, tilting his head in further. Lance follows suit, resting his forearms on Keith’s shoulders and tangling his fingers in his wet hair.

His brother may be an idiot sometimes, but he’s so happy he took this trip;  _ so  _ happy he took the risk.

The summer wouldn’t be bad with Lance.

Not in the slightest.

**Author's Note:**

> come [scream with me](https://sheith-keef.tumblr.com) on tumblr! i hope you enjoyed!


End file.
